


Hinoka and Azama First Meeting

by candiedTardigrades



Category: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem Birthright, fire emblem fates
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedTardigrades/pseuds/candiedTardigrades
Summary: While meditating in the mountains near his father's shrine, Azama finds a fierce redheaded girl caught upside-down in a tree and resolves to help her, not realizing that it is actually the eldest princess of Hoshido.





	Hinoka and Azama First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> In this headcanon, Hinoka is 10 years old and Azama is 15. Enjoy!

It was a fine day to get in trouble. Well, everyday was a fine day to get in trouble with how poor his father considered his attitude and how uncouth his backtalk. Who’s to say, though, that Azama did not misbehave intentionally if only to excuse himself from the stuffy temple. He would meditate atop a high mountain today, he thought. When the sun went down and cooled the air, the tension he had caused this morning would hopefully cool as well, and Azama could make it back just in time for a fine dinner. That was how the cycle usually panned out.

So it could not be considered exaggerating to say that Azama was very surprised when a crash the size of Anankos jolted him from his meditation to the material plane.

 

The source of the crash was just a few yards into the woods. A sheet of hair spread like red spiderwebs over tree leaves and, above it, the contorted face of a little girl, just as red. The foolish child was hanging upside down in the branches, held up by a leg twisted into a painful coat hanger. What surprised Azama the most, however, was the look on the girl’s face. Rage, fierce determination, and frustration composed her glare. There were no tears, no trace of pain; only a fire as wild and hot as her hair.

“Well, well,” said Azama as he approached. “What have we here? What are you doing so high in the mountains, little girl?”

The girl spit, and a glob of saliva landed near Azama’s feet. No blood, he noted. That was good. 

“I’m not a little girl!” she snapped, though Azama did not feel particularly threatened. This was mostly because she looked ridiculous -- even a little bit cute -- as she kicked with her good leg, dislodging leaves and flakes of dirt that sprinkled her hair. “Get me down!”

“What a rude way to speak to who is quite probably the only person around for miles.”

She glowered. “What a rude way to speak to the princess of Hoshido!” 

Azama did not try to help it -- he burst out laughing. “Yes, of course, and I’m Lord Ryoma!”

“How dare you mimic my brother! And how dare you laugh at me! Let me down!” With one more ferocious kick, the branch above her snapped. Azama watched in mildly sadistic amusement as she hit the ground hard. Her face went taut with pain, but she did not cry. “Please,” she gasped. “A cleric.”

“Well, only because you asked so nicely.” Conveniently, his trusty walking stick happened to double as a healing staff. He set about examining her, listening for groans as he felt her leg and checking for other injuries. He raised his staff, calling forth healing magic. It coursed through his body and into the wand, shaking the wooden charms as it engulfed the self-proclaimed princess. Slowly, she sat up.

“You’re welcome,” he said. He sat down on the grass next to her, legs crossed beneath him. “Now if you would, tell me how you ended up hanging from a tree like an incompetent chimpanzee. I expected today to be another boring day, but was delightfully mistaken.”

“I was training,” she said. “And” -- she bit her lip -- “I fell off of my pegasus.”

“Oh ho! A little squirt like you training to become a ferocious warrior! Haha, is that the best glare you can muster? Ah, I’m trembling!”

“Shut up! My little sister was kidnapped because  _ I _ couldn’t protect her. Now it’s up to me to get her back! I’ll storm Nohr by myself if I have to.”

“Kidnapped by Nohrians, my my. A tragic tale.”

She stood with a huff. “I don’t need you mocking me. If this is something I have to do myself, with help from no one, then so be it!” She faced him, still seated and smiling blandly up at her, and bowed her head stiffly. “Thank you for helping me. I have money to pay for your services. How much do you want?”

He chuckled again. What an amusing child! Like he would actually accept money from such a tattered girl. “Keep your change. We monks are not particularly keen on a materialistic way of life. Your debt to me has been more than paid with all of the amusement you’ve offered this morning.”

“Fine, then. I’m going home.”

“On foot?”

“Well, I imagine that my pegasus already made it back to the palace without me. Everybody is probably freaking out,  ‘specially cause I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving.”

“What a reckless little thing you are. Well, allow me to accompany you.”

“You’ve done enough. I don’t need an escort.”

“Ah, but I insist! What poor form would it be to leave a lady unattended on a treacherous journey down the mountainside.”

“But shouldn’t you be getting back to your own family?”

He smiled serenely as he rose to his feet and dusted off his legs. “Well, my dear, unlike you, I was kicked out of my house.”

She stared at him. “But that’s terrible! Why?”

“Oh, it’s just for today. So you see, I have plenty of time before I must be heading back. As for the why, well, some say I am in need of a significant attitude adjustment. Now, which way is your abode?”

 

The girl walked silently, listening to Azama’s irritating humming as he guided her down the trail in the direction from which she had come. The area surrounding his shrine was well preserved. Leaves glistened in sunlight and grass flourished beneath their feet. Observing the hillside from a pegasus’ back offered a completely different perspective of the woods, and the girl seemed entranced, almost lost in the greenery. Azama only hoped she was paying some sort of attention, because he did not know where she lived and the direction she was taking him was the same direction as the palace. How long did she intend to drag out this joke?

“Tell me, why did you help me?” Her sudden words startled Azama so much that he missed a beat in his humming, but he quickly recovered with a nonchalant response.

“I told you, my dear, only because you asked so nicely!”

“Don’t give me that. I saw you. You had the look of someone watching a tormented insect. You came in like a bystander, not a hero, perfectly prepared to walk away again. So tell me. Why did you heal me?”

Azama gawked. She saw right through him. Did that piercing gaze see straight into his brain? “Well, if you must know, I liked your eyes, positively star-struck with determination. I thought to myself, ‘it would be such a shame to let an idiot like  _ this _ die. Such blindly determined fools do not come around so often, even if they are liars.’”

“I am  _ not _ a liar!”

“Of course not, ‘Princess Hinoka,’” he chuckled.

She crossed her arms, stopping in her tracks. “And what if I  _ am  _ Princess Hinoka?”

“Well, then, I suppose I would have to serve you for the rest of my days and help you find your sister,” he said idly. What a silly girl. Ah, but she was entertaining. So much more so than a quiet day under the trees. They walked in silence for a little longer; Azama knew that they would reach the base of the mountain in just a few minutes.

Just as the ground flattened, she spoke again: “What’s your name?” 

This time, he did not miss a beat. “I already told you. I’m Prince Ryoma.”

“Your real name.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that to myself until you tell me  _ your _ real name.”

 

It was only when the gates of castle -- after about an hour of walking -- were in sight that Azama stopped. The girl, striding a few paces ahead of him, turned around and gestured for him to follow.

“Why’d you stop?”

He hesitated. It seemed that the girl was dead set on leading him to the palace. It was a capital offense to impersonate members of the royal family; he wondered if she knew. Maybe she actually did live in the castle, as a servant or guard in training. That was possible, he supposed. But if she did not and was too stubborn to admit it, then they would both be in tremendous trouble. Ah, well, he was already in trouble, and whatever she wanted to do was her own business. He would not squander this opportunity to see what happened next.

“Oh, no reason.” She grabbed his hand as if to say, “keep up with me,” and they continued forward. They crossed into the town square, where busy vendors and consumers hardly spared them a glance (Azama vaguely noticed that the girl stared at her feet the entire time, but he didn’t think to ask why); into the public gardens; and finally approaching the castle gate, where an arrow whizzed past Azama’s cheek and planted itself in the ground behind him.

“Unhand the princess!” demanded an archer stationed on the tower before them. There were a dozen of them standing guard, each one aiming carefully with an arrow notched in their bows.

“What?” said Azama. He dropped her hand and stared at the smug expression on her face. The arrow behind him was a warning shot. If he made one wrong move, one wrong step, he’d be filled with more holes than a poorly thought-out story. He suddenly felt the full weight of his mortality bearing down on him. It was thrilling.

“You know it’s a capital offense to impersonate members of the royal family, ‘Ryoma,’ but I think I’ll let it slide,” she said. Just then, the massive door swung open and the real Prince Ryoma charged out. He wore a training shirt and pants, hair tied messily behind his head.

“Step away from my sister!” he shouted, clutching a katana, still sheathed at his waist. Azama obeyed without thinking. Ryoma threw his arms around his sister. “Where have you been! You had us worried sick! Gods, when your pegasus came back without you, we assumed the worst! Think about poor Mikoto! She already lost a child…”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” 

“What were you thinking!?”

“I was training! Ryoma, I’m going to be a pegasus knight and I’m going to rescue Corrin myself!”

“Oh, Hinoka…”

“Um, pardon me,” said Azama. “Not to interrupt or anything, but I’d appreciate not having twelve arrows pointed at me at once. We all must pass on to the next world eventually, but I’d prefer not to do that today.”

“Who are you?” In an instant, Ryoma drew his sword. He had pushed Hinoka behind him and scrutinized Azama for any sign of armaments.

“Brother! Stop, it’s okay. I’ve employed him as my retainer.”

“You what?”

“He’s my retainer.”

Fluidly, Ryoma sheathed his sword and held out his hand. Azama took it. “Apologies for my hasty actions. I am Prince Ryoma.”

“Oh, I know,” said Azama.

“On behalf of the royal family of Hoshido, I thank you for helping my sister. She tends to cause a great deal of trouble with her stubbornness, so the fact that you would walk her all the way back home while impressing her enough to win her favor is quite amazing. Hinoka, what is his name?”

Azama burst out laughing when he saw the flash of alarm in her red eyes and Ryoma looked at him quizzically. “It’s Azama,” he said, catching his breath. “Call me Azama.”


End file.
